


Influence of Others

by derekstilinski



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotions, M/M, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekstilinski/pseuds/derekstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock's telepathic wall is too thin, which makes him susceptible to everyone else's emotions, even the residue of it that they leave on objects. He's overwhelmed and Jim is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Influence of Others

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I'm sorry. This is my fic Trek fic and I don't know if I've gotten anything right. I haven't read this over, so if you find a spelling mistake, just tell me.
> 
> (Slightly out of character behavior because Spock is experiencing everyone else's emotions)

Spock has been... off. More so than usual, anyway. He's been avoiding everyone, hiding himself in the labs whenever he's not needed on the bridge. Jim's starting to get concerned that he's slipping into depression or something. Spock even canceled their game night, and just before Jim was going to surprise him with an antique board game.

And he's been wearing these gloves, only taking them off to work at his station on the bridge. Maybe he's sick. Jim dreads to think of that, especially with Spock looking as composed as he does. There would be no way to tell how bad the illness would be, unless Spock told them. And knowing Spock, he wouldn't want to cause a fuss.

He knows Spock is still logging into the holodeck; to see New Vulcan, to meditate on the cusp of one of the planet's mountains while the artificial sun rises or sets. Jim does similar on a simulation of the Grand Canyon from time to time. And Spock seems fine when the simulation is over, he doesn't cling to it like someone with space madness would.

Jim goes to see him in his cabin during some down time. When he's allowed entry, he finds Spock at his desk, gloves laid out next to him. He's fiddling with a chess piece that they use for their game nights, turning it over thoughtfully with his fingers.

"Captain," He says in greeting, "Did you need something?"

Jim watches him closely, coming forward, "I just wanted to check up on you, make sure you were okay."

"I am fine, at the moment." Spock tells him.

"At the moment?" Jim picks up his gloves and leans against the desk, "You've been acting strange."

"I have had a series of more... vulnerable moments, the past few days. But I am still capable of my duties, I assure you." Spock replies, watching Jim's hands on his gloves.

"Vulnerable moments? Are you cold?" Jim gestures with the gloves, "Is that what these are for? Spock, if you need to bundle up, you can. Where's your issued sweater?"

Spock only answers the last question, pointing shortly, "In the drawer, there. It hasn't been worn in some time, on account of the hole. I do not like breaking dress code on the bridge with the gloves, Captain. But they are necessary."

Jim gets up and retrieves the sweater, seeing the small hole by the insignia. Spock is still toying with the chess piece, looking neutrally content with it. He tenses a bit when Jim comes near. Jim smooths out his worried look before it can fully be given to Spock, "Don't worry about the gloves. Or the sweater, for that matter. I'll have it fixed. Just... Take care of yourself, alright? Get a spare heating blanket from Bones if you need to."

"Thank you, Captain." Spock says, and shies away when Jim goes to pat him on the shoulder. Spock looks almost sympathetic as he leaves.

\--

Jim fixes the sweater himself, pricking his fingers more often than not, but it's for Spock so he doesn't care. He makes sure the hole looks like it was never there, then flips it back right side out. It smells kind of musty, so he takes it upon himself to have it washed as well.

Meanwhile, Spock is still avoiding people, and now often has a chess piece in his hand when he's not immediately working. He rolls it between his fingers and breathes deep, but puts his gloves back on the moment someone has a report for him. Jim watches over him, the deliberate steady breaths he takes, how his fingers touch the little ivory pawn. Spock isn't outwardly sentimental, but he doesn't just have the piece to occupy his hands. He won't let anyone else touch it. Uhura asks about it, about him, and he shies away from her comforting touch after a short moment. He seems to need to collect himself after, features smoothing back out. He meets Jim's eyes after, but neither of them say anything.

Later, Spock retreats to his room during lunch, not even detouring by the mess when most of the bridge crew goes down. Uhura's next to Jim in the lift and looks concerned.

"He doesn't seem okay, Captain," she says, then quickly adds, "And I'm not just saying that so he'll be put on rest leave, or anything. That would be terrible, we know how much he loves his post."

Jim waves his hand to calm her, "I know you're not trying to get him kicked off the bridge. You're concerned... So am I."

She looks relieved that he understands, "Maybe you could talk to him?"

"I did. He wanted to assure me he was fine and that his behavior wouldn't effect his duties," he looks over at her, "He said he had a few vulnerable moments, and he got all tense when I tried to comfort him. Probably thought he didn't need it, right?"

"I tried comforting him, too. He shrugged me off. Politely, but he still did. He usually doesn't mind that stuff, at least not with me." Uhura leans against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest while she thinks.

"I saw that. And he's not touchy-feely, but he lets me, too," he shakes his head, "He's not even coming around anyone now. Not even enough to brush shoulders in the lifts."

"Do you think he's sick?" Uhura asks, words pulled heavy with worry. Jim rubs her arm.

"Hey, hey. If he were as sick as you're jumping to thinking, he'd go to Bones. It's logical. And Bones would've told me." He says, watching just a bit of the distress smooth from her face.

"You're right, you're right," she sighs, pushes away from the wall and takes a deep breath, "...Have you seen the little chess piece he's been carrying around?"

"Yeah. It's one of my pawns, from when we have a match." Jim answers, and Uhura looks confused.

She sighs and shakes her head, "Jim, will you talk to him again? Please? Just to make sure he's alright?"

He nods, "Yeah, I'll... I'll bring him lunch. Maybe something Vulcan, to 'ease the soul', or something."

In the mess, he tucks a freshly wrapped bread roll under his arm and settles a sealed bowl of plomeek soup into a bag with his own lunch. He takes a stop by his cabin to retrieve Spock's repaired sweater before heading to his first officer's door. He presses the buzzer with his finger and waits.

Spock's voice comes over the comm, "I'm not indulging any visitors at the moment."

"Not even me?" Jim asks softly, trying for Spock's good side, his soft spot.

"Captain?" Spock sounds surprised that Jim's here to see him, as he's usually spending time in the common areas for lunch.

"Yeah, the one and only. Open up." Jim smiles when the lock disengages and the doors sweep open. Spock is at his desk, but looks like he was nesting on the couch.

Seeing everything Jim's hauling in with him, Spock's eyebrows raise as he stands, "What are you doing here?"

"Lunch," Jim sets the bag and bread down, then holds out the rolled sweater, "Got this for you too, as promised."

Spock starts reaching for his gloves, then very visibly hesitates. Jim waits, arm extended with the garment. Spock takes a breath and comes closer, and Jim touches his arm as the sweater changes hands, "Spock, what's going on?"

Spock pulls back from him and slides the sweater onto the desk. He looks troubled, even pained, "Stop worrying. That's such a heavy emotion. Control yourself, Jim."

"I'm worrying because you're acting so weird." He says in return, reaching out again to try and help. Spock steps back.

"You cannot come any closer to my person." Spock says firmly, but his voice wavers. He holds his arms over his chest, watching Jim's distance from him closely.

Jim raises his hands, taking a step backward, "Okay. I'm sorry, I was just trying to help you. It's what humans do when someone they care about is acting like they might be in trouble. Are... Are you? Are you in trouble, Spock?"

"Your trying to help just worsens the problem while behaving the way you are. You and Lieutenant Uhura alike." Spock says.

"Uhura?" Jim's brows knit close, "What's Uhura got to do with this?"

"She tried to react in a similar fashion. On the bridge, she--"

"She was trying to comfort you, yeah. You shrugged her off, too. Why?"

"Because she was worried."

Jim sighs, "Yeah, that's how she felt. She told me. She touched you because she was worried... _While_  she was worried."

When it starts to dawn on Jim, Spock looks embarrassed, "Correct."

"You've been having vulnerable days, you said. Because you're a touch telepath. That's why you're avoiding everything." Jim feels relief wash over him. Spock isn't ill, he just doesn't feel good.

"Yes," Spock won't meet his eyes, "It happens rarely, and I began to be... overwhelmed with everyone's emotions. It was just people at first, their immediate touches; then deeper. Every shared data pad handed to me, everyone packed inside of a lift, every chair in the recreations room. Emotion laid to every inch. Letting people near and using bare hands are something I can't handle right now, in general areas."

Jim scrubs a hand over his face, "God, Uhura thought you were dying. I thought you had space madness. Those are wrong, right?"

"I am not dying, nor falling ill. I am just..." Spock searches for a word, brows creased.

"Sensitive?" Jim tries, to make sure he understands.

"Yes. And it will subside, as it normally does." Spock nods.

Jim sighs, running a hand through his hair, "That's good to know, Spock. You know, I'm your--"

"You are my Captain and now upon seeing your concern, I realize I should have told you."

"I'm your _friend_  and you should have told me," Jim tells him, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I am not sure," Spock looks timid as he moves towards his desk. Jim puts his hands behind his back, and that calms Spock a bit, "Last time I... felt this way, I had my mother to aid me."

"What did she do?" Jim inquires about it gently, letting Spock know it's okay to tell him a story, "Tell me about it."

"She used to know. She said, 'Just by the look on your face, Spock'. And I would immediately feel terror. What if my father saw the same? It would be weakness, and is, by Vulcan standards. But she would thoroughly assure me... comfort me. Even if she could not be in my immediate vicinity, even a hand washed blanket could transfer her comfort," Spock slowly reaches towards his repaired sweater, unsure of whether he wants to touch it or not. Then, he does, and Jim sees his shoulders relax, "You put work into this yourself. You were clumsy."

"Sorry." Jim says when he sees Spock rub the pads of his fingers together, like trying to soothe a sewing needle's pinpricks.

"No, it is... Fine. You have my thanks." Spock tells him, lifting the sweater from the desk, holding it in both hands.

Jim's brows furrow, "Can you feel what I was feeling?"

"Numbly. Think of it, maybe, as a rounded summary of what you were feeling. It's actually... pleasant on my current state, so thank you." Spock tells him, cheeks going the slightest hint of green.

Jim feels warmth spread throughout his body, and smiles at Spock. He extends his hand, palm up, "Would anything else help? I'm not really worried anymore."

"It's good that you're not," Spock says, a little fixed on the feelings he's letting swim through his veins. He breaks it off when he feels Jim step closer, and looks at what Jim is offering, "...Oh."

Jim tries not to smile wider. Spock's fingers twitch and after a few long moments of very visible thinking, Spock's fingertips skim his palm. It tickles and Jim bites his lip, chuckling softly. Spock looks up at him, face no longer tense from being overwhelmed. He smiles, "Is this okay? Is there something I can do to, y'know, push those feelings to you? The good ones?"

Spock tilts his head, "I thought you already were."

Jim shrugs and Spock goes even more green, "No, I was just thinking. Generally."

Spock doesn't meet his eyes, "I see."

"Do you want me to? Project the feelings, I mean?" He asks.

"You may try. Just find your best way of visualizing, and give them to me." Spock peeks up and watches Jim close his eyes, concentrate. Jim thinks of the feelings as colorful fog, and lets them mentally roll in at Spock. Relief, gratefulness, care, appreciation. His mind supplies love without meaning to, but there it goes, golden and bright.

Spock shivers at the power Jim's emotions carry. They're full, heavy. It becomes a jumble of sorts, mind too busy feeling to separate and categorize them. Something biting and huge gets him at the end, and he clamps down on Jim's forearm, heart rate steadily rising, "Stop."

Jim blinks his eyes open, seeing Spock looking pained again, "What did--"

"You said before that in this moment you are not my Captain, but my friend. Correct?" Spock grits out, feeling relief and overfilled at the same time. The contact is mixing oddly, but not unpleasantly.

"Yeah, of course." Jim says quietly, (like he knows the feelings are loud, Spock thinks), and not sure what he's done wrong.

"Thank you." Spock tells him quickly, before he's coming into Jim's space, hugging him tightly.

_Oh._

Oh, maybe Jim did something very right.

He wraps his arms around Spock's middle and waits patiently, listens to Spock breathing in his ear. It's not completely level and Jim takes deep breaths, to which Spock follows, matches. He pats his back, "That's better."

"Forgive me." Spock says, relaxing in Jim's embrace, feeling all the warm, well rounded emotions. It's a slower flow now that he's got them in his system, making him languid. It's a little intoxicating after having uneasy emotions weighing him down for days. The buzz under his skin is now a smooth lull, and it's so nice to feel just... steady. Comfortable.

"It's okay," Jim rubs his hand up and down Spock's back, "Hey, I brought you food."

Spock perks up, "You have?"

"Yeah. Still hot. You've gotta be hungry, worrying yourself like that."

"It would be a great comfort." Spock nods, and Jim maneuvers them over to the couch, settling down on it. He lets go of Spock to bring the blanket up around his shoulders, fingertips brushing his neck accidentally.

Spock closes his eyes a moment to just feel, and when he opens them, Jim is holding up a bowl and torn piece of bread. He takes them with a small smile and Jim smiles back, "Plomeek soup and fresh wheat bread. That okay?"

"It is satisfactory. Thank you, Jim." Spock says, and experiences the warm, secure feeling of being pleased Jim has, when he pats Spock on the knee. Jim unpacks his own lunch and begins to eat, and Spock watches him, "My mother used to prepare meals for me. I would ask her a significant amount. I don't know if she knew that her love transferred, like with the blankets."

"Were you more sensitive as a kid?" Jim asks, leaning back into Spock's couch to show how comfortable he is, and just how much they are friends right now, not Captain and First Officer.

"I was... bullied at a young age." Spock leans back as well, slower, and brings his feet up onto the couch. His socked toes touch Jim's thigh.

"Ah, shit. Bullies are shit, Spock. They pick apart everything, or they make something up." Jim twirls his fork in his spaghetti, shaking his head.

Spock nods in agreement and sips his soup, "On many occasions, their insults were very ineffective, and frankly too simple-minded to even be consumed."

"Ooh, Spock. Cutthroat words, my friend," Jim snorts, laying his head back. Spock feels the urge to smile very fully, "There's nothing wrong with you. Never think there is."

"That's very kind, Jim." Spock looks at the flow of color on his Captain's cheeks now, at the way he smiles, his eyes bright.

Jim shrugs, looking at his plate, trying to stop smiling, to stop realizing how easy it is to be here with Spock. He'd be content to do this every night, even if they had nothing to talk about, even if they were consumed by stacks of work.

Spock settles his food onto the table and offers his hand to Jim. Jim licks his lips, looking up at him, "You sure?"

"Ninety-eight percent." Spock says truthfully.

Jim cracks another smile and lays his hand over Spock's. Spock gets the full flood of emotions again, and it's soothing, _good_. But then Jim laughs at the look on his face, and Spock gets overwhelmed. He finds himself letting out a small chuckle, and trying not to smile too widely. He feels he may hurt his face with how badly he wants to. He pulls his hand from Jim and hides his face.

"Holy _shit!_ " Jim's grinning like hell, sliding his plate haphazardly onto the table to turn and try to sneak a peek at his smiley Vulcan.

"I was overwhelmed, I'm sorry." He doesn't sound very sorry.

"I've never heard you laugh before," Jim says, and maybe what Spock has is some sort of sickness, because it's changing one half of him. But it's freeing in a way, to see him like that, but that's possibly just because Jim's human and wired to see it that way, "Are you okay?"

"I don't wish to harm myself." Spock says, hand shielding his mouth, fingertips at the edges to try and calm them.

"Smiling really big does kinda hurt your cheeks sometimes, but it's not permanent damage. Promise." Jim lays his hand on Spock's wrist, careful to catch the fabric of his shirt with it. Another barrier from the emotions is probably a good idea at the moment. Spock is reluctant to move his hand and Jim takes a breath to settle himself, "I promise I won't judge you. I'm hardwired to like smiles, remember?"

"It is true humans take cues from how someone's face reacts, and have learned smiles are indeed a good thing, linked to praise and acceptance. Especially when presented to them." Spock leverages out loud. Jim nods and Spock lets his hand drop safe in the knowledge that he's not going to harm himself if he lets the smile persist. Although, he makes an effort to keep it below the stage of showing teeth.

Jim bites his tongue to keep from grinning too widely, "That's a good one, Spock. You look good."

"Good?" He asks.

"Satisfactory. Above-average. Very acceptable." Jim explains it better.

"Oh." Spock tries not to let his face emerald, but it seems he's lost that control as well. Jim doesn't seem to mind. Spock reclaims his bread to occupy his mouth. Jim shakes with silent laughter.

\--

Jim makes sure there's a station free at the medbay when he brings Spock in. Spock settles on the bed with his blanket around him and Jim explains the situation.

"That's why he's been carrying that chess piece around." Bones mumbles, and shakes his head when Jim looks at him oddly.

"Whatever. Listen," Jim rubs his friend's arms, "Good thoughts, good feelings," he starts bouncing a little, "Smile, shake off any stress."

Bones gives him a flat look, and then takes a breath, rolling his shoulders. Whatever his patients need of him. He gives Spock a small grin, inclining his head towards Jim, "What'd you do to him?"

"I laughed." Spock says, letting Bones check his heart and lungs. Bones raises an eyebrow and Spock nods, "I feel your surprise."

"Sorry," Leonard shakes himself off again before scanning Spock, making a noise when Spock's... well, everything, elevates. He looks to see Jim rubbing his shoulder. The responses aren't normal for a Vulcan, but Spock's human side has to shine sometime, right? He shoos at Jim, "Quit it."

Jim scrunches his face at him, but steps back. He thinks of a stressful part of his day and comes around to Spock again, "Sorry about this."

Spock frowns when Bones takes hold of his wrist, feels the emotions pour and steam. Spock's readings fluctuate dramatically. He lets go and steps back, bringing Jim with him. They leave Spock a moment, watching, and there's still a minor misreading, off to what it should be. He nods and steps back over, "I think you have an imbalance. Juggling your abilities with your heritage. They uh, fight, almost. If you can picture that. It's okay, don't get too worked up. It's a simple fix."

"It is?" Spock asks, rubbing his wrist to try and wash away the unease. Leonard leans and places Jim's hand where his own did the damage.

He nods when the readings waver again, "Pretty sure. I'll run some tests, look at some options. Vulcans have those mental shields, my guess is yours get flexible. Like jell-o."

Jim scoffs in amusement, "Jell-O. That your medical opinion there, Bones?"

Spock's lips start to quirk up. Leonard nods, "I'm a doctor, not a novelist, Jim."

"Mm, can see that." Jim chuckles.

Leonard rolls his eyes, "Anyway," he notices Spock trying not to smile, "I can... Wow. I can give you something in the mean time. A light relaxant."

"Thank you, Doctor McCoy." Spock nods, and lets Jim adjust the blanket around his shoulders.

Once Spock has the hypo administered, he and Jim head back to Spock's quarters. Uhura catches them in the hall, looking relived the moment she sees Spock allowing Jim to touch him.

"Before you ask, he is perfectly fine. He's just got some jell-o walls." Jim says.

Uhura gives an unimpressed look at Jim's description, but smiles at Spock, "You really are okay?"

"Yes. Doctor McCoy and I are working out a treatment plan." Spock assures, "And I apologize if my earlier presence seemed cold. I was in considerable distress."

"It's okay, don't apologize. I'm just happy you're okay." She says, squeezing his arm gently.

Spock feels relief and calmness flow in, and he nods to her, then leans and presses a kiss to her cheek, "I am fine. And will continue to be fine. Right now... I have a sweater to put on."

Uhura lets them go and Spock holds Jim's arm back to his quarters. Spock shrugs his blanket from his shoulders and Jim watches Spock shed his shirts. Spock grabs for his sweater, "I feel very relaxed now. Thank you."

"No problem. It's what friends are for." Jim settles in at Spock's desk, setting up their chess board.

"I think I would like to sleep. It feels like a nap would be beneficial, seeing as the attempts before this were very restless." Spock says, pulling the sweater over his head and adjusting his mussed bangs after.

"Oh," Jim sets the queen back onto the table, "You want me to go?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort." Spock moves around to fix his bedding.

Jim swallows, "You want me to stay?"

"If you'd like," Spock picks up the white pawn next to his bedside and brings it over to his desk. Jim watches curiously and Spock goes a little green, "I can um, explain."

Jim lays his hand over the pawn, "It's like the sweater, isn't it?"

"You seem very happy when you win a match... The feeling has now dulled a significant amount."

"Were you using my emotions all this time?"

Spock looks embarrassed, "Yes. I stumbled upon the comfort by accident... and then I could not let it go."

Jim takes his hand, hearing the sharp inhale Spock takes, "You should have told me earlier."

"I did not want to bother you."

"You wouldn't have, Spock."

Spock tints a deeper shade of green, "Oh."

Jim stands up, grinning, "Smile for me again, and I'll stay."

"You.. You feel mischievous Jim."

"I'm just trying to figure something out."

"And that is?"

"Would you get more use from me, or the other chess pieces?"

"You, certainly."

Jim grins and takes Spock's data pad, then finds himself a comfortable position on Spock's bed. He logs in under his name and looks up when Spock's weight doesn't dip the bed. Jim raises his eyebrows, "Well?"

"Oh, yes. Right." Spock stammers a bit before laying down. He finds himself curling in close to Jim, and in response, Jim cards a hand through his hair. Spock feels adored, "Fascinating."

Jim smiles, not taking his eyes off the pad, "Sure is, Spock."


End file.
